


Not Quite Straight

by Whymsical



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Human AU, M/M, No Sex, Sorry guys, USUK - Freeform, with a lil hint of prucan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:55:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whymsical/pseuds/Whymsical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was nothing wrong with being straight and working at a gay bar...was there? USUK Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Straight

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyy, the first of my oneshots! This one is a bit long, plus I wrote it waaay earlier, so it's not gonna be a part of my collection later on. I might write a sequel for it later though!  
> (Also explanation for inspiration is at the bottom~)

There was nothing wrong with being straight and working at a gay bar. That's what Alfred F. Jones told himself as he walked into the job interview. He needed the job (or rather the money he'd make from it), and besides, he liked the bar atmosphere. And the fact that it was a gay bar well, he was sure he could handle it.

"They will hit on you." the bar owner, an Englishman in his late forties, warned. He was a bit skeptical about the whole situation, but the young man before him didn't seem daunted.

"That's fine, I won't mind." Alfred replied, shrugging easily.

"Are you sure, lad?" the owner asked. "How old are you, anyhow?"

"I'm nineteen, sir." Alfred gave him a small salute. "I'll be turning twenty in July. Don't worry about experience, I have that."

The owner raised an eyebrow. "Isn't the drinking age in America twenty-one?"

Alfred grinned. "I didn't drink. I just served 'em. I don't drink at all. Heroes haveta be at the top of their game always, y'know?"

"I see. Why don't you come by tomorrow night at eight, Mr. Jones, and we'll start you off."

Alfred nodded eagerly and shook his hand before bounding out of the small office. He stopped briefly downstairs in the bar to take a look around, and then left.

The American felt thrills of excitement going through him the entire next day. He was in London for college, so he decided to go sightseeing. He visited all the major attractions along the Thames River, staying extra long by Big Ben and the London Eye. He got plenty of pictures too, and all in all considered the day well spent.

Eight soon approached, and he made his way back to the bar. It was really just like any other bar, except there were usually only men there. And, well, there were those two guys kissing in the corner, but Alfred averted his eyes. He had nothing against homosexuals; he was just interested in girls.

"Jones, you're early." The owner beckoned him to the bar.

"Do you work here?" Alfred asked curiously as he approached the area.

"Only during the day. Gilbert, who works the night shift, will show you the ropes. He's changing now, but he'll be out soon. Your uniform stays here, you'll be able to change in the back."

Gilbert was indeed out soon. He was a German man with white hair and red eyes. He was wearing black dress pants, a white button-up shirt, and a black vest. A ruby red bowtie was around his neck.

"Hmm, so you're the crazy straight guy who decided to work here?" he asked, leaning up against the counter and letting his eyes run up and down Alfred's body.

"I'm not crazy!" Alfred shot back. If anything, Gilbert looked to be the insane one, with his hair and eyes.

The albino only laughed and showed Alfred his uniform before commanding him to go off and change. Seriously, the man had a voice like a drill sergeant.

"Now what?" Alfred came back to the bar five minutes later, dressed similarly to Gilbert. The only difference was that his bowtie was a deep cerulean blue instead of red.

"Not bad." Gilbert smirked. "You'll be  _very_  popular."

Alfred straightened his vest. "I'm straight."

"Right. Sure. I give you a month."

"For what?"

"For you to realize your inner gayness." Gilbert replied, snickering.

Alfred coughed and tugged on his vest again. "So how will this work?" he asked to change the topic.

"Did you go over work times yet?" At Alfred's denial of that, Gilbert's smirk grew. "Awesome. Do you mind taking this shift then? It's from eight until two AM."

"That's fine." Alfred's classes didn't start until eleven anyway, and he'd be more than fine with six or seven hours of sleep.

With all that out of the way, Gilbert proceeded to show him everything. He told Alfred all the drinks and labels they served, pointing out which drinks were the most popular, and introducing him to all the people in the bar. Once the men found out about the American's sexuality, Gilbert's bet spread with alarming speed until it seemed that most of them had placed money on him.

Alfred was faintly embarrassed by that, but found himself not minding too terribly much because the guys welcomed him warmly. The rest of the shift, until two AM, he stayed and worked alongside Gilbert. By the end of it, when the albino kicked him out, he knew his way around pretty well and felt comfortable in the low-ceilinged, dimply lit room.

"Are you sure you want me to leave?" Alfred asked for the umpteenth time as he gathered up his coat. It wouldn't be very heroic to just up and leave his new co-worker there.

"Ja, ja. I've been working two shifts for the past few months. Besides, I can sleep in tomorrow." Smirking, Gilbert bade him good bye once more before shoving him out the door.

The next night Alfred felt nervous again. This time he'd be on his own, with no Gilbert to guide him. But once again the men welcomed him warmly and soon his doubts disappeared. Oh, they flirted with him, like the owner had warned. Alfred politely denied their approaches, and they were nice enough to leave it at that. But that didn't stop them from trying.

* * *

The following two weeks passed quickly, and Alfred got more and more accustomed to the atmosphere until he was completely at ease and joking around with the bargoers. That was when he met him.

He had come into the bar late one night, green eyes dull and shoulders slouched forward. He took a seat on one of the bar stools, but didn't say anything for a really long time. His head was bowed forward, so Alfred couldn't really get a good look at his features.

"Uhh, hey there." Alfred said lightly as he finally headed over to him. "Can I get you anything?"

The man lifted his head, and Alfred was suddenly frozen in place. "Scotch." Was all he said.

"Right. Coming up." Alfred managed to tear his gaze away and hurried to prepare the drink. Th man had looked so miserable, but also tired and resigned. Alfred's heart went out to him. He was dressed very nicely, and the American wondered what had happened to put him in such a state. "Here you go." He placed a glass on the tabletop.

"Thank you..." the man murmured, before picking up the glass and downing its contents in one go. "Another one."

Alfred gaped at him, but quickly slid another glass across. Two shots later, the man's green eyes were bright again, but with intoxication. One more and he was talking.

"Bloody bastard..." he muttered, his accent thick and heavy with alcohol.

"Who is?" Alfred asked carefully.

The man mumbled an unintelligible name. "Wot was 'e thinkin', standin' me up like tha..." A muffled, choked sob came from him. "He dun' know wot he's missin'."

Alfred winced sympathetically. So he'd been stood up. "I know how ya feel." he offered gently.

"No ye don't!" the man suddenly snapped, his eyes blazing in anger. "Wot would an 'to man like you know 'bout bein' left alone?" Then, the anger died and he slumped forward again, miserable.

"W-Whoa there." Alfred hesitantly reached out to pat the man's shoulder and was more than a bit alarmed at the sudden, shuddering sobs that came from the huddled figure.

He hadn't really been prepared to deal with a crying drunk man so soon in his job. He had been kind of expecting it- he  _did_  work at a bar, after all- but he hadn't thought it would be quite so soon.

Luckily for him though, Gilbert arrived for his shift soon after that. He's been coming in about a half an hour early so he could chat with Alfred and the other people, and sometimes have a small drink. Alfred had been alarmed the first time, but Gilbert assured him that he had pretty high tolerance and he'd drunk on the job before, so this was fine.

The albino tool one look at the slumped man and burst into a fit of snickering.

"So Arthur's pissed again, is he?"

Alfred bit his lip. "Will...will he be able to get home okay?"

Gilbert snorted. "No. He's been like this before. I usually just drag him to the back room and leave him there until morning."

"...Oh."

The German suddenly got a glint in his eye. "Why don't you take him home? It would be the  _heroic_  thing to do." He had learned of the blond's hero obsession within the first two day of working with him.

"I don't know where he lives. Or even his last name." Alfred protested, but he seemed hesitant.

"Arthur Kirkland. Lives on Churchill Street. Number 41." Gilbert told him almost boredly, adjusting his bowie before starting to take orders.

Alfred jotted down the address on his arm with a pen. "How do you know all that?"

"I've taken him home before. Used to go drinking with him, but then I got this job and now I'm on the other side of the counter."

"I, um...okay. Is it far?"

"Couple of streets. You could piggyback him. It's the way he moves the least."

After a few more moments of hesitation, Alfred walked over to the slumped figure and with brief difficulty, hefted him onto his back. Arthur was unconscious by this time so he didn't protest, but a soft moan escaped his mouth as he was moved.

Alfred walked as quickly and smoothly as he could, though it took him a while to get directions to the street. Number 41 was a fairly small apartment building, and Arthur lived on the ground floor. Which was good, because Alfred really didn't feel like carrying the Brit up any stairs.

He found a spare key under the doormat- how typical- and dropped Arthur off into his bed. He didn't look around too much, not wanting to pry or anything. He did make sure to leave some water and aspirin on the bedside table for him though. He knew from accounts how killer hangovers could be sometimes. After that was done, he quickly left and went back to his apartment, promptly falling asleep.

Arthur came back to the bar the following night, this time looking completely normal and not depressed. He settled down onto the same stool as before, but once again didn't speak.

Alfred didn't know it was him until he turned around. "Hello, what can I- oh. Hi." He had to admit, Arthur looked much better now.

"Good evening. I assume you're the one who took me home last night?"

"Yeah, but how-"

"Gilbert never leaves medicine or water. Thank you."

"S-Sure, dude, anytime. It was the right thing to do." Alfred tore his eyes away from those green ones and reached for a glass. "Can I get ya anything?"

"Tea, if you will."

"Uhh...huh? You know this is a bar, right?"

Arthur smirked a bit. "A bar that serves tea. It's in the back corner." He nodded his head in the direction of the teapot. "So you're the one, hmm?"

"The one what?" Alfred asked, putting an electric kettle to boil.

Arthur leaned forward a bit, and beckoned Alfred to come closer as well. When the American did, his smirk grew. "You know, when a man is working at a gay bar, there must be some part of him that's not quite straight." he said lowly, his breath ghosting over Alfred's cheek and ear.

Alfred felt something within him tighten (not his crotch, you perverts!) and found himself unable to pull or look away, once again mesmerized by the emerald depths. He suddenly blinked and jerked away, turning back to the kettle. "I  _am_  straight."

"We'll see. You know, of all the things I said last night, I know one of them was  _most definitely_  true. You are quite the looker."

Alfred nearly choked on his own spit as color rose to his cheeks. "I- I- You! What?!"

"I may have been drunk, but I do remember some bits and pieces of what went on." Arthur watched him, amused. It was interesting how he reacted...

"Thanks for the compliment, but I'm straight." Quite recovered now, Alfred turned back to him and slid the teacup across the counter.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him and took a small sip. Watery and nowhere near what he himself could make, but it would do.

Alfred raised an eyebrow right back at him, before moving off down the counter to serve some other customers. By the time he finally stepped back to where Arthur was the Brit had gone, leaving an empty teacup and a few pound notes. The American would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't disappointed that Arthur had left without saying a word, but he pushed the feeling down and focused on some new customers.

* * *

Arthur kept coming back every night for the next week, to have some tea and to talk to Alfred. He would always try some light and teasing flirts, but Alfred always responded to them with a "Thanks, but I'm straight." That was the one thing that most intrigued and frustrated Arthur about him.

One night when the Brit came in, Alfred was getting wooed by another man. Anger pooled in his stomach at the sight, and it only intensified when Alfred smiled and laughed at something the man said.

He strode purposefully over and plopped down on a stool very close to the two of them. "Hello, love."

Alfred looked over at him and blushed faintly at the pet name. "Oh, hey Arthur."

While he was making Arthur's usual tea, Arthur was shooting violent warning glares at the other man. Eventually he got the message and excused himself, retreating with his drink to a nearby table. Once he was gone, Arthur relaxed and allowed a small smirk to settle over his features.

"Jealous?" Alfred asked as he slid the teacup over. He'd seen the whole thing from the corner of his eye.

The smirk widened a little bit. "Perhaps."

After that, Alfred found he had to distract himself mentally whenever Arthur came by. That little "Perhaps." had told him that Arthur was quite serious in pursuing him. Alfred was happy being straight, even if he hadn't had a girlfriend in over two years and if his last relationship had crashed and burned.

_'Boobs, Alfred.'_  He would tell himself.  _'Think boobs.'_

But it was no use. He was subconsciously falling, even if he refused to recognize it. Heck, he'd fallen a long time ago, the first time he'd set eyes on the smaller man. That all changed though, the next time Arthur walked in.

He was miserable. Alfred could see it immediately. His green eyes were dull again and his head was bowed. He took a seat silently in his usual place.

"...Arthur?"

"Scotch."

"Arthur, what happened-"

"Scotch.  _Now_."

More than a bit stung at the brusqueness, Alfred stepped away and got the drink. "Here you are."

Arthur dug around in his pocket and placed a few notes on the counter, enough for a few more drinks. He didn't say much that night, only speaking up to order more alcohol.

Alfred felt horrible, wanted desperately to know what happened, but Arthur didn't say. The American got even more concerned when Arthur started sobbing again, but by that time he was too drunk to speak coherently.

When Gilbert arrived and saw the situation, he snickered but then clucked sympathetically. "Rough day, huh Arthur?" he asked, patting the Brit's shoulder. He received a loud sob in response.

"I'll take him home then." Alfred said, quickly changing and hoisting the drunk blond onto his back.

Arthur moaned softly. He was still out of it, but his arms locked around Alfred's torso and refused to be pried off. He mumbled unintelligible things for most of the way, but when they were close to his house, a slur of "I love you, Alfred." slipped out alongside a sob.

Alfred stopped dead in his tracks and turned his head to stare at him. Arthur surely couldn't mean that; they barely knew each other!

But Arthur snuggled closer to him and nuzzled his nose to Alfred's neck. "Luv you..." he muttered again.

Biting his lip and trying to ignore the feeling pooling in his stomach, Alfred resumed walking. He lay Arthur down in his bed again and left some medicine on the table. Arthur had stopped crying, and the tear tracks on his cheeks started to fade. He looked so young and vulnerable, and Alfred hesitated by the bedside.

_'Boobs, Alfred, think boobs!'_  he thought, almost desperately.  _'Boobs are good. Boobs are hot, boobs are the shit, boobs are what everything revolves around... Fuck, he doesn't need boobs, he's already good and hot and the shit and God fuck I'm gay, aren't I?'_

He hesitated some more and then leaned forward to brush his lips against Arthur's forehead. The feeling in his stomach intensified, and he found himself smiling softly.

Thoughts in a whirl, Alfred backed away from him and silently slipped out of the apartment. He seriously needed to think. He barely got any sleep that night, and couldn't concentrate at all during his classes.

_Was_  he gay?

Arthur was certainly good looking, and Alfred admittedly could see himself holding and kissing the smaller man, looking down into those green eyes-

Oh shit, he was.

Thoroughly exhausted, Alfred collapsed into bed and took a short nap before his shift started. He woke up and had to run so he wouldn't be late, but he was glad for the distraction because it took his mind off...other things.

Lucky for him the bar was pretty full that night so he had plenty of people to talk to. The flirting continued as usual, but he was still distracted and missed almost half of it. When Arthur finally came, it was nearing the end of his shift. The Brit looked tired, but he wasn't miserable and ordered tea.

"Hard day?" Alfred asked lightly.

Arthur took a sip of tea before answering. "Yes."

"Not as bad as yesterday though, right?"

"Oh  _God_  don't remind me of that."

"Sorry. You uhh...wanna talk about it or something?" Alfred leaned against the counter, propping his chin up in his hands. He tried his best to make it seem like he hadn't just had probably the biggest revelation in his young life, and that everything was normal.

Arthur sighed and nodded. "I suppose. It's just, work. People are being idiots and not doing their work and I'm getting the backlash. I'm one of the higher-ups at a small publishing company, see."

Alfred nodded at him to continue.

"And well...the man who...who stood me up that first night I met you..." Arthur looked like he had trouble getting that out. "He works there as well. I saw him yesterday, with someone else."

"O-Oh..." Alfred's heart sank. So Arthur still cared about that other man. And just when he'd realized...

Arthur saw his face. "Oh, don't worry. I'm over him. It just hurt seeing him so happy when I..." he trailed off with a shrug.

Alfred brightened. "Well. That's good then. That you're over him. Y'know, you can move on and all that."

A small smirk appeared on Arthur's face then, and a light blinked on in his eyes. "Oh? Are you perhaps...jealous, Alfred?"

"No. Why would I be? I'm s-straight." Alfred huffed out and turned away, but he was blushing.

"You stuttered there, love." Arthur almost purred.

"I well...hah...I-"

"It's okay." Arthur reached out to touch him on the shoulder lightly. "What are you worried about?"

Alfred jumped at the sudden touch, but turned around. "I-I just, I was  _happy_  being straight an' looking for girls. And...well, it's different, ya know?" And to be honest, he was a bit scared. But he'd never admit that.

"Different isn't always bad." Arthur reasoned, but drew back. "And what, you don't think you could be  _happy_  with a man? With...me?" Even though the last bit was said in a low voice, his anger still showed through the words.

Blue eyes widened. "N-No! I'm not saying that Arthur, not at all." Alfred said quickly. "I just gotta get used to the idea..."

Arthur nodded. "I can respect that." He finished off his tea and stood, laying down some coins on the counter. "I should get going. Good night, Alfred."

Alfred watched him leave. No less than five times, his mouth opened to call him back, but no words came. He didn't know why he was hesitating; he'd already established that he liked the Brit.

_'Just give it a little more thought.'_  his subconsciousness urged. _'Just to make sure.'_

Gilbert arrived even earlier that night, and he wasn't alone. His arm was around a young man who looked startlingly like Alfred, but the two weren't related. His name was Matthew Williams, he was Canadian, and he apparently attended the same university as the American. Gilbert introduced them and then went to change.

"So you're the straight one?" Matthew asked conversationally, his voice quiet.

"Eh...hahah..." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "No, not exactly. At least, not anymore."

"Oh?" Matthew raised an eyebrow and smiled softly. "Have you found someone?"

"I think so..."

"You think?"

"W-Well..." Alfred could feel his face heating up a bit. "I like him...quite a lot, actually. And I know he likes me too, I just..."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if I can..."

"You're afraid." Matthew said softly. "Nervous, at the very least." He raised a hand to stop Alfred's sputtering protestations. "Don't deny it. It's alright. I was nervous when Gilbert first started getting friendly with me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was flattered that someone was giving me any attention- I'm usually very quiet and consequently ignored, see. I was unsure that it was a  _guy_  who approached me, but I decided to give it a shot. If it didn't work out, I could always walk away. You can, too. But it did work out, and I'm happy. Arrogant bastard Gilbert can be sometimes aside, I love him." Matthew said, shrugging lightly and smiling.

"Try it, huh?" Alfred gave it some more serious thought. He  _could_  always walk away, like Matthew had said. And he's already decided that Arthur was much better than boobs... "How?"

"How what?"

"How do I know if I really like him?"

Matthew thought for a moment, and then grinned again. "Kiss him. If you feel sparks or something, he's the one."

"Dude, that's so cliché." Alfred snickered a bit.

"I know. But it works."

Alfred suddenly spotted Gilbert walking out of the back room, fully changed. "Just don't tell your boyfriend, okay?"

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Why...oh. The bet? Don't worry, my mouth is shut."

"Hey Al, you can go early today." Gilbert said, striding behind the bar. He leaned closed to Matthew and smirked at him. "So Birdie, what can I get you?" he purred seductively.

The Canadian blushed and smiled softly in return. "Just a small beer for now. Whichever you think is best." He turned to Alfred. "Give it a shot. You never know."

Alfred nodded and went over to change, his mind made up. He exited the bar to find it was raining. Quite hard. Cursing as he'd forgotten an umbrella, he dashed out into the downpour. He was soaked in seconds.

His feet carried him almost unconsciously to a familiar door. He stood before it for a few moments, and then reached out to knock loudly.

The minutes passed, and nothing happened. But Alfred refused to leave, so he knocked again, this time even louder.

"Oi, stop that bloody racket! I'm coming, I'm coming." Arthur's faint voice came from behind the door, and movement was heard.

It opened soon after that to reveal an annoyed and tired Arthur, who looked as though he'd just gotten out of bed. The annoyance turned to surprise as he realized who it was. "Alfred? What are you doing here?" He suddenly noticed the rain pouring down outside and stood aside. "Get in here, you're soaked. You could catch a cold, come on."

Alfred entered and stopped near the doormat so he wouldn't go dripping water everywhere. He glanced around as Arthur closed the door behind him and went off to go get a towel. There was only one small lamp on, but he could see the room was elegantly decorated. It was a bit old-fashioned and had a hint of the Victorian era to it, but from what Alfred had gathered about Arthur's personality over the past few days, it fit him perfectly. The room looked very nice as well. The furniture matched and looked right at home.

Arthur brought him the towel and took a seat on the couch. "So why are you here? It's not even two yet." he asked.

Alfred pulled the towel through his hair and attempted to pat his clothes dry, something that somewhat worked out, but not really. "Gilbert came earlier than usual. I...I talked with his boyfriend and..." He suddenly walked over and sat down next to Arthur, pulling him into a kiss.

Arthur blinked and at first didn't react, but then started lightly pressing back against Alfred's lips. His hands reached up to encircle the American's neck, and he pushed the larger man even closer.

Oh, Alfred felt spark alright. More like freakin' fireworks or rockets, really. His stomach bubbled pleasantly, and there was a nice warm feeling in his chest. He slowly pushed Arthur down onto his back, so he was lying on top of him. Much too soon, he had to pull away for air. So instead, he hugged Arthur tightly.

"Well then, love." Arthur chuckled and rubbed Alfred's back.

"I wanna try. Being with you." Alfred bit his lips and raised his head to look worriedly down at the Brit.

Arthur smiled up at him and pulled him down into a soft kiss. "That's fine."

"I guess you were right, huh?" Alfred said. "Not quite straight."

"I'm  _always_  right." Arthur replied. "Now love, not to say your weight doesn't feel nice, but could you get off?"

"Oh. Right." Alfred sprang up, wincing a bit at the sticky wet sound that reached his ears as they separated. He patted the wetness all over the front of Arthur's shirt lightly. "Sorry 'bout the water..."

"It's fine. It does rain here a lot, after all." Arthur glanced at the clock. "Would you like to stay the night? The guest room is free for you to use."

"Yeah. That would be awesome, thanks."

"I think I have some of my brother's clothes here. They might fit you. Wait here." Arthur left and came back a few moments later with boxers and a shirt.

"Thanks!"

"You're welcome." Arthur leaned in close and pressed a small kiss to Alfred's forehead. "I'll ahh...see you in the morning. Good night."

"Night~!" Alfred stripped right then and there and dried himself off before pulling the dry clothes on. His own he hung up in the bathroom, and then went off to the guest room. It wasn't hard for him to find, him having walked into it on accident one of the times he'd dropped Arthur off and was looking for medicine.

He was woken up early the next morning by Arthur. "Wha... What time s'it?"

"Seven, Alfred. I have to go to work now, and well..." Arthur looked a bit uncomfortable.

"I gotta go home now, right?"

Arthur nodded.

"Okay. Don't sweat it, Artie. I have to get ready for my classes anyways."

"Alright then." Arthur looked relieved. "I'll visit you later when you're on your shift."

Alfred brightened. "Sure! But, uhh, come later? Like around 1:30?"

"I will see you then. You may keep the clothes for now, just return them whenever you have time."

Alfred thanked him again and kissed him lightly before dressing. Arthur forced him to eat a bite of breakfast- store bought, Arthur barely (luckily) had time to cook- and they left the house together, splitting up at the end of the street. Alfred's day passed in a daze, and almost before he knew it he was back in the bar.

As promised, Arthur came in around 1:30. Alfred perked up immediately when he saw the shorter man. "Hey Artie! How was work?"

"Artie?" Arthur raised an impressive eyebrow.

"Yeah. It's a nickname!" Alfred replied happily. "Since we're , you know, I thought I could... You can call me Al if you want!"

Arthur chuckled lightly. "Tea, please."

"Right away, sir." Alfred replied teasingly, winking at him and putting the kettle on.

"Oh, belt up." Arthur muttered, his cheeks pinking. "Work was fine. I saw... _him_  again." He practically spat out the last part.

Alfred's brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I've found someone else now, after all." Seeing Alfred's expression further darken, Arthur leaned over and touched his arm. "It's you, idiot." he whispered, smiling a bit.

"Oh.  _Oh_. Right." Alfred grinned brightly in response, and his attention was drawn to the door, where Gilbert had just walked in. He quickly moved away.

"Hey Al! Oh, and Arthur. I'm surprised you're not totally pissed yet." Gilbert called, strolling over to the bar.

"I have no reason to be." Arthur replied coolly.

"Oh  _really_  now? What happened to make you so...calm at this hour?" Gilbert rested on the counter. "Did someone finally manage to pull that stick outta your ass?"

"There never was one." Arthur shot back.

Alfred decided to step in then. "Hey Gil?" He waited until the German's red eyes were focused on him. "You won."

It took Gilbert a moment to figure out what he was talking about. Then, "Kesesese! Really? I knew it!" He nearly fell off the stool from laughing so hard.

Arthur promptly hit him. "Stop that, the boy's still adjusting."

"Ow! Sorry, sorry, okay." Gilbert slowly straightened up while taking deep breaths. "So who is it?"

"Uhh..." Alfred stole a tiny glance at Arthur, who smiled softly at him.

Gilbert caught the look and burst out laughing again. "Arthur Kirkland? You actually fell in love with  _Arthur Kirkland_?"

"H-Hey-"

"You find something wrong with that?" Arthur asked, interrupting Alfred mid-protestation.

"No, no, of course not." Gilbert said quickly, recognizing the dangerous tone Arthur's voice had taken on. "It might be good for you, having someone fun around you."

Arthur glared. "I am fun."

Alfred suddenly had a brilliant idea. The little spat going on between Arthur and Gilbert wasn't particularly hazardous or explosive, but he would like to avoid unpleasantries all the same. So he leaned across the bar and captured Arthur's lips with his own. He felt the other man freeze up, but then relax and start pushing back.

Gilbert snorted. "Oi, get a room." he called, snickering.

Arthur pulled away and licked his lips. He turned and shot another glare in the albino's direction. "Don't you have a job to get ready for?"

"Right. But before..." Gilbert hefted himself up onto the bar and lounged across it. "Listen up! The awesome me was right! Take that, hah! Our little straight barman's got himself a boyfriend! So pay up, bitches!" he yelled out into the crowd. His words were met with cheers and a few grumbles as wallets were taken out.

Both Alfred and Arthur were staring at him in horror, identical blushes on their faces. Arthur acted first, grabbing a fistful of Gilbert's shirt and yanking him down off the bar.

"You bloody idiot, what the hell did you do that for?!" he hissed. "What if Alfred wasn't ready to come out?!"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Relax, these guys are pretty awesome, they'll be nice to him."

And indeed they were. Alfred was surrounded by a small group of congratulators. He was thanking everyone, though he looked a bit uncomfortable at all of the attention.

Arthur strode over to his side and took his hand, squeezing it lightly. "All right chaps, lay off for a bit. You can come over some other night." Thankfully, the crowd dispersed.

Alfred glanced down at him and slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "Thanks, Artie." he said quietly, resting his chin in Arthur's hair.

"Okay lovebirds, time to go." Gilbert popped up alongside them, already changed. "This bar's about to get awesome!"

Alfred rolled his eyes and dashed off to change. Arthur was waiting for him outside. He linked arms with the Brit and they set off towards Arthur's apartment. Right before they reached the door though, Alfred paused.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, glancing up at him.

"Willyougooutwithme?" Alfred asked in a rush. "Like a real date? I have lunch breaks from one to two every day, I don't know about you, but I thought we could go to lunch or something though I get if you don't want to, we could do something else of course, anything you want, Artie, and we can go somewhere nice like the movies- the movies is where people go on dates, right, it's like romantic and all that or-"

"No reason to look so nervous, Al." Arthur said gently, smiling at him as he interrupted the American's anxious rambling. "I'd love to go out with you. There's a nice café across the street from the bar. We'll meet up there tomorrow at one?"

Alfred flushed happily at the nickname and nodded. "Yeah!" He leaned down to kiss Arthur long and hard, also managing to get in a quick peck to his nose as he pulled away. "Good night, Arthur." he said softly and then turned away, humming.

Arthur watched him vanish into the night. "Good night, love."

Alfred never once stopped humming his way home, and there was a pronounced bounce in his step. He didn't think he'd ever been happier in his life. He'd have to go hunt down Matthew in school or at the bar and thank the Canadian for his advice.

"Not quite straight at all, eh Artie?" he asked no one in particular right before he fell asleep. "Not quite straight at all..."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration came from my brother, who actually did work at a gay bar in Europe for a while. His story didn't turn out quite like this- he has an awesome girlfriend now- but I thought this could be a cool idea.
> 
> Apologies if it feels or seems a bit rushed, but this is meant to be a short(er) story, so I can't really go into all of the details. But I hope you liked it anyways!
> 
> Oh, and if any of you are wondering why Gilbert's German, well, I put him as German in all of my Human AUs, so that should be quite common. Why, you ask? Well, a) Prussia doesn't technically exist as a country/nation in this world anymore (sadly) and b) he technically is German, so yeah. If it really bothers you, just substitute 'German' with 'Prussian' and you should be good.


End file.
